Chapter 082: The Prime Minister’s Expectations

Wei Ba had always believed that Zhuge Liang intended to take a roundabout route through Longxi before capturing Guanzhong, but he never expected Zhuge Liang’s caution to exceed his imagination.

Zhuge Liang had no plans to seize Guanzhong at all; his true target was Longxi.

Most of what Ma Su explained was quite detailed, though some parts were rather obscure. In summary, his considerations boiled down to a few key points:

First, Guanzhong is much like Hanzhong. When Dong Zhuo moved the capital to Chang’an, he ravaged the surrounding area for years, burning, pillaging, and slaughtering until nothing remained. Later, Ma Chao wreaked havoc in Guanzhong, repeatedly clashing with Han Sui and Cao Cao, exhausting the last vestiges of the region’s vitality. Now, Guanzhong is as desolate as Hanzhong. The once populous Qin Plain, stretching eight hundred li, is sparsely inhabited; even Cao Wei maintains only a small garrison, with few civilians. Without people, there is no way to produce the vast quantities of grain needed to supply an army. Without grain, no matter how many troops you have, you cannot hold the territory. In other words, capturing Guanzhong is not easy—and holding it is even harder.

Second, Guanzhong is strategically important. Cao Wei could never stand by and let Guanzhong fall; they would inevitably devote all their efforts to reclaiming it. This presents Shu Han with two dilemmas: either defend Guanzhong—a Herculean task, given insufficient troops and even scarcer food supplies. Transporting grain from Hanzhong to Guanzhong is already fraught with difficulty, let alone bringing it all the way from Chengdu, a thousand li away. The very thought chills the heart. Or, abandon Guanzhong—if you’ll ultimately have to give it up, what’s the point of seizing it now?

Third, compared to Guanzhong, taking Longxi offers three advantages.

First, the chances of success greatly increase. According to Zhuge Liang’s plan, Cao Wei’s main forces cannot reach Longxi for half a year. The mere ten thousand garrison troops stationed in Guanzhong are no match for Zhuge Liang’s army.

Second, Longxi is home to warhorses. Occupying Longxi gives Shu Han another horse-breeding base, enabling them to raise a formidable cavalry force and significantly strengthen their power.

Lastly, Longxi lies over two thousand li from Luoyang—more than twice the distance between Chang’an and Luoyang. If Cao Wei wishes to fight in Longxi, their supply lines will be stretched much farther. Should they commit their main force to Longxi, Sun Quan of Jiangdong would seize the opportunity. Then, Cao Wei would be forced to shuttle back and forth along two extended fronts, each stretching three to four thousand li, exhausting themselves in the process. Before long, they would be worn out and weary. At that point, with the enemy weakened, reclaiming Guanzhong would be as easy as picking something out of a pocket, far easier than it would be now.

Wei Ba pondered this for a long time and had to admit that Zhuge Liang’s plan held merit. Compared to the risk of capturing Guanzhong, taking Longxi first—though not as foolproof as Ma Su claimed—did offer a significantly higher chance of success, provided everything unfolded as planned.

“Now do you understand the Prime Minister’s painstaking intentions?” Seeing Wei Ba deep in thought, his expression finally relaxing, Ma Su let out a sigh of relief. He knew that, though Wei Ba appeared easygoing, he was much like Wei Yan, stubborn and not easily persuaded—charitably put, strong-willed; less kindly, obstinate. Bold and daring, if not thoroughly convinced, who knew what schemes he might hatch? Ma Su had come to Anyang in person, in part to persuade Wei Ba to abandon the plan for the Ziwu Valley. Only by making him recognize the flaws in the Ziwu Valley scheme and understand the superiority and security of Zhuge Liang’s plan could future troubles be prevented.

Had Wei Ba not known how history would unfold, or if Wei Yan were not so pig-headed, Ma Su might have succeeded in convincing Wei Ba to abandon the Ziwu Valley strategy. But now, though he could not persuade Ma Su, he also did not believe Zhuge Liang’s plan was truly foolproof.

History had already shown that Zhuge Liang failed. Countless later generations—not including genuine military strategists—regarded the failure to use the Ziwu Valley plan as a regret.

Still, Wei Ba did not pursue the argument further. He knew well that, in such circumstances, persuading Ma Su was more difficult than conquering Chang’an. The hardest fortress to breach is not a city, but the human heart. Ma Su, in his prime, had never suffered defeat, brimming with ambition and eager for glory—how could he be swayed by a mere junior? Should he tell Ma Su: “You will lose at Jieting, the Prime Minister will execute you, and in a few years, even he will die of exhaustion at Wuzhang Plain?”

Did he think exposing his kingly aura would make all the heroes of the world kneel, crying out, “My lord, please accept me”?

So Wei Ba wisely put on a look of admiration mixed with embarrassment, bowed deeply to Ma Su, and said, “Counsellor, you are truly wise. Hearing your words is worth ten years of reading. Thank you for guiding me through confusion.”

Ma Su burst out laughing, raising Wei Ba up with both hands. “Enough, no need for modesty. When I was your age, I was not as capable as you. Zi Yu, you are clever; you just lack experience and learning. Read more, live through more, and one day, the Han dynasty will rely on young men like you. I hope I will live to see that day.”

On this point, Wei Ba believed Ma Su and Zhuge Liang were sincere. He thanked him again, “Thank you for your encouragement, Counsellor. Please convey my gratitude to the Prime Minister. I will remember this deep in my heart and never forget it for a moment.”

“Very good.”

Ma Su encouraged Wei Ba a bit more before rising to take his leave. Wei Ba escorted him to the door, hands clasped respectfully, watching him stride away before returning inside. As soon as he entered, Mi Wei emerged from within, staring at Wei Ba’s face for a moment. “You’ve given up?”

“It’s too soon to say,” Wei Ba replied with a smile, waving his hand. “He makes some valid points, but whether they’re truly valid depends on whether events unfold as he predicts. We’ll continue our preparations either way—the initiative remains with us when the time comes.”

Mi Wei let out a sigh of relief and smiled, “That settles my mind. If you’d already given up, I’d have to dig out my eyes and stomp them into mud.”

Wei Ba feigned surprise, gazing at Mi Wei. “For the sake of your bright, beautiful eyes, I can’t give up so easily.”

Mi Wei paused, then burst into laughter. Amid their laughter, the two who had always felt mutually exploitative seemed suddenly to find a shared understanding, as if a thick barrier between them was dissolving. Though not yet vanished, it no longer felt so alien. They glanced at each other, and their laughter grew louder and more genuine.

After the laughter, Wei Ba resumed a serious expression, shaking his head. “Though I can’t fully agree with their views, listening to him today was still very enlightening. Some issues, we haven’t thought through deeply enough—the difficulties may be far greater than we imagined. I need to consider things further and make more preparations.”

“Yes, you’re right. More preparation is always good—just don’t let thinking make you timid. War is like business: sometimes you have to steel yourself. If you never take risks, you’ll never reap big rewards.”

Wei Ba looked at Mi Wei and suddenly said, “You may have martial skills, but at heart, you’re still a businessman.”

Mi Wei’s face darkened, clearly displeased.

Wei Ba shook his head. “Don’t misunderstand, I mean no slight to merchants. In fact, I believe merchants are sometimes more useful than those scholars who recite the classics. Even Confucius didn’t disdain merchants; he took Zigong as his disciple. Without Zigong, Confucius might not have become a sage.”

Mi Wei’s expression softened, and he cast a meaningful glance at Wei Ba. “If you’re willing to be Zilu, I don’t mind being Zigong—though, unfortunately, the Prime Minister may not be willing to play the Master.”

Wei Ba smiled without answering, as if he hadn’t heard.

...

Ma Su arrived at the county temple where Zhuge Qiao resided. Zhuge Qiao greeted him at the steps, hands clasped, as respectfully as if the Prime Minister himself had come. Ma Su accepted the courtesy, ascending the steps calmly and taking the seat of honor. Zhuge Qiao stood by, studying Ma Su’s face before chuckling softly, “Counsellor, you truly achieved success as swiftly as a horse.”

Ma Su glanced at him without speaking, then gestured to Yang Wei, who stood behind him. “Yuanxiu, go prepare some wine. I’ve been talking with Wei Ba for half a day—my mouth is dry.”

Yang Wei’s expression fell as he complied and left.

Seeing this, Zhuge Qiao grew somewhat anxious, his own face turning uneasy. He cleared his throat, “Counsellor, does the Prime Minister have any instructions?”

“The Prime Minister has nothing to instruct you. Everything you’ve done so far has been proper and correct—there’s nothing to criticize.”

Zhuge Qiao lowered his head. “Proper and correct”—in other words, ordinary. Clearly, this was not a result that would please his father.

“You know about Wei Ba’s memorial to the Prime Minister, don’t you?”

Zhuge Qiao nodded. “I know. He originally wanted me to write it, but later... I feared my father wouldn’t be pleased, and if I couldn’t resolve his displeasure...”

“What is there between you and your father that can’t be resolved?” Ma Su interrupted him sternly. “Are you worried that the scribes will leak your correspondence? Wei Ba wanted you to present the memorial because he knows how to advance and retreat. At this time, if you can persuade him, do so yourself. If you can’t, you must keep him within your grasp, not let him act freely. Letting him send the memorial himself—do you think that absolves you?”

Zhuge Qiao said nothing.

Ma Su sighed deeply. “Bosong, I know the Prime Minister is very strict with you, and you’re a bit afraid of him. That’s understandable; you’re just not used to it yet. Over time, you’ll see—he truly treats you as a son. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be so rigorous.”

Zhuge Qiao hung his head and murmured assent.

Seeing his dispirited demeanor, Ma Su felt displeased. He coughed, “Bosong, though you have only five thousand men now, you’re a commander. If you lack confidence, how will you ever lead tens of thousands and conquer the world? Lift your head—believe in yourself, and in the Prime Minister’s judgment. If you lacked the necessary qualities, why would he devote such care to training you?”

Zhuge Qiao was startled, slowly raising his head, voice trembling, “Really?”

Ma Su was both amused and exasperated. “Of course. If you were like your third uncle, would he bring you to Hanzhong? The Prime Minister is so attentive to Wei Ba—how could he not value you?”

Zhuge Qiao let out a long breath, his face breaking into a radiant smile.

—Monday: asking for recommendations, asking for favorites!